Hans' home was in the Hake end of Talymn, on the uttermost northern edge, where the ancient flood plain of the River Swift rose to meet the untamed hills and mountains of northern Talgar. His backyard was a small, well-trimmed plot of land ending abruptly at the deep forest strangling the steep and wild hills beyond. Hans sat in an old, cracking chair, his back to his house. At one point, he had been watching the brilliant orange sun fall below the Etani Cliffs, and now he lingered in silent thought, staring into the star filled sky.

  He shuddered as a cool breeze blew past him and filled the tangled woods beyond Talmyn with foreboding rustles. His white eyes turned from the gray sky to the edge of his lawn, watching a single leaf floating through the air, loosed from one of the tall trees overhanging his yard. I should go in. His plated hand reached forward, grasping the knotted arm of his weathered chair as he prepared to rise, but another rustling in the woods caught his attention. He froze, his eyes adjusting to the blackness of the forest as he peered within, making use of a slight illumination escaping from the kitchen window behind him. The woods were deathly silent. A strange sense that something was moving grew stronger, but he could not see what or where. Fear crept into his mind as he sensed that something out there was watching him; for the woods were untamed and replete with various types of wild creatures, though only rarely did they stray from the shelter of the trees. The worst of the creatures had been hunted to extinction, but plenty remained of a lesser, but no less deadly, danger. As he listened to the darkness, the refuge of his home behind him and out of sight, he remained perfectly still, and his heart (or the Sheepel equivalent) began to pound.

  Another cool breeze swept northwest from the River Swift, rustling his long white hair and a million leaves in the dark forest beyond. Perhaps the breeze had covered the sound of the creature’s footsteps, or perhaps the creature moved with such stealth that it could not have been detected. In any case, the breeze left as quickly as it had arrived, and Hans stared in horror ahead of him.

  Just on the edge of the lawn, too dim to make out clearly, yet lit enough to reveal its general outline, a creature stood, its two large, yellow eyes locked on Hans. Sweat dripped down Hans’ face as he recognized the creature. No! No! he thought madly. We killed all of you! There cannot be more! He longed to run, to sprint to the door behind him, locking it tight, but indecision held him fast. Is the door even ajar? No. I’ll have to open it. That will take time! Too much time! I would be dead before I reached the door! How fast can they move? What if… where did it go?”

  A blade of tallgrass swayed where moments ago a rabadon stood. I hope I didn’t leave the door open, thought Hans in terror. If the monster had entered his house... but no; it couldn’t have slipped past him, could it? It must have gone back into the woods. Perhaps–

  A sound behind him froze his thoughts. He felt an icy breath on the back of his neck, swelling and ebbing in time to the sickly sound of dry, raspy heaves forced through an ancient windpipe that had seen its share of suffering. Rabadons had been hunted to extinction on purpose. If any remained alive, it had either been extremely reclusive, or extremely lucky. Hans gripped his chair until his bony hands began to turn white but the creature did not attack. Not physically, at least, though the irregular, forced breaths were a torment to his spirit. It had been a long, long time since he had heard that sound, but the memories came flooding back.

  Behind him, the kitchen light flickered and went out. Hans was alone with the terrifying creature. Rabadons had enough intelligence to know it was the Sheeple who had systematically eradicated their species, intent on killing every last one. This particular rabadon was also well aware that the Sheeple had missed one. And it was downright furious that the Sheeple had missed one… for being alone was worse than being dead.

  Hans’ body raced with fear, his mind screaming with anguish in the silence. He wished he’d never come out to watch the sunset–that he’d never bought this house–that he’d never lived in Talmyn. Just a few weeks ago, he could have joined the other Hakes on his block that left for the Hakes’ Area in fear of the approaching war. Instead, he sat in his yard with a creature of unimaginable terror four inches from his neck.

  Another gust of wind swept past, and Hans sensed that the creature was no longer behind him. He rose like a spring, running to his door as fast as he could, fumbling for the handle in the pitch black night. The kitchen light flickered and came back on, aiding him. Apparently, it had a bit of life left after all. Like the rabadon, Hans thought with a chill.

  * * * * * * * *

  Bimi was not a happy camper. He did not want to be a camper. He hated camping.

  “You are not going to demolish my house just to turn the coastline into a letter of the alphabet!”

  “It is a very nice letter of the alphabet. The Xa is...”

  “I don't care if it's the whole alphabet! I don't want my house turned into line spacing!”

  “Ah, but there is a law. Signed by the Supreme Coordinator and everything, so it's official.”

  “Here, how about you turn the Xa a little bit sideways? Leave my house on one of the arms and hollow out Nerobath instead.”

  “Sir,” the engineer responded, “it is not our fault, and beyond our control. Years were spent determining the best location for the Xa, so as to minimize, er, incidents. There is no turning back. Your house is one in three hundred and forty-seven thousand that must be demolished. If you people had an issue with that, perhaps you should have been at the polls. See, says so right here.”

  Bimi ignored the report waving in his face. He had been vaguely aware of rumors that such a bill had passed a planet-wide vote. At the time, he'd thought the entire thing so ridiculous he'd ignored it, thinking it was a scheme on the part of the government to divert the Xenonites' attention from the increasing troubles on other worlds, troubles which seemed to be getting closer and closer to Xenon. Now, he was flabbergasted.

  “You are going to destroy forty-seven thousand households just—”

  “Three hundred and forty-seven, sir”

  “Whatever seven, just to improve the aesthetic beauty of a map?”

  Bimi had every right to be upset. All across the continent of Xado, law-abiding Xenonites were finding their homes turned into ocean in a terraforming project of gargantuan size. The final goal was to transform the centrally located continent into a gigantic letter ‘Xa,’ the first and most important letter of the Xenonite alphabet (looking something like an X with bulges on the ends). Those who lost their homes to the ocean (living in the ‘armpits’ of the Xa, it was said) were of course offered new homes on the expanded wings forming the four corners of the Xa. It was a pork barrel of continental proportions, benefiting the tourist industry, the construction industry, and those living in Xado City, the center of the new Xa. The signature of the Supreme Coordinator was its final hurdle; it had only been a few days, but already the digging was under way.

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  The engineer continued. “Sir, what the tourists see when they look at a map of The United Republic of Xenon is very important. This project will bring billions in additional revenue to the planet.”

  “I am not a project! Just because I am not a Xenonite does not mean I don't have rights! I am a citizen of this planet, with a house, three kids, and no intention of moving!” He had fabricated the kids part, but thought it added a nice touch.

  “Think of the billions of revenue! This could be the difference that provides you a better job, a better quality of life, a better world!”

  “I like my job, thank you very much!” Bimi retorted. He actually wasn't all that fond of it, but knew that while change, in principle might be a good thing, the Xenonites were certain to make things worse.

  “I’m glad to hear that you enjoy your job,” said a voice behind him. Bimi turned in surprise.

  “Arro?” Seeing the assistant to the Supreme Coordinator standing on your porch wasn’t something that happened every day. “Thank goodness you’re here; I could really use your help. These aliens are trying to turn my house into a canal. What are you bureaucrats doing over there in Xado City?” Bimi’s eyes narrowed. “And why are you here?”

  Arro grinned. “Sorry, Bimi. I know it's your respite. You’ve been doing great work for us. And you must be very busy with the upcoming move and everything. Really, I'm sorry about that, it's out of my control. But, um… we have a job for you.”

  “What kind of project could possibly be of such import? Surely you have other spies…”

  “It involves Earth.”

  Bimi became alert. Xenonites trying to change things on Xado was one thing. But Earth was his home world. “Earth? We just sent two Ciri there. I saw them off last month.”

  “Yes we did. That is exactly the problem. They managed to crash their x-craft. They have no way off the planet. They are trapped in a hostile region, defenseless. Unfortunately, we fear sending more untrained spies would be a disaster; you know what that planet is like. Landing in those jungles is a nightmare, and there are few who are qualified to make such a long journey through sniper-space.”

  “They're stuck down there? On the planet? Have they been captured?”

  “No, at the moment they are safely hidden in the jungle. Their ship has been found, but they escaped unseen. You're our best hope, Bimi. You know the route to Earth better than any of us. We have so few decent human spies, and we can't afford to lose two of our best. We need them back.”

  Bimi made a strange face. “Your best?”

  “Okay! So we don't have all that many to start with. But that's partially your fault; as you recall, it was you who urged the Supreme Coordinator to reduce the amount of recruiting. Truly, I understand your reasons, but now these two… they're already Ciri; they are one of us now. We cannot just leave them there, good spies or not. You know this.”

  “Of course. I simply wish you'd heeded my requests to cease the pointless missions to that sector. None of those planets are even close to interstellar travel. Our attention should be focused on the real battles, on our known enemies. Each ship crashed on a fruitless mission to peaceful worlds is a ship that cannot protect us from the Vorians… or worse, the Usurpers, if it should come to that.”

  Arro was getting annoyed, but needed Bimi's help and had to be careful not to lose his trust. “I will pass your sentiments along to the Supreme Coordinator. I assure you, we do not send out Ciri without much deliberation. As for the loss of the ship, it was beyond anyone's control. We have assessed the log and ruled out user error. The ship’s software malfunctioned, causing the operator to lose control of the craft. Ivan was forced to bring the ship down to prevent a much worse fate. The landing spot he chose wasn’t all that great, of course, but it appears the crash was unavoidable. The exact coordinates for a monstrous cliff were somehow stored in the ship’s database as its final destination, and it doesn’t look like he had any way of changing it. We hope to interrogate him further when he returns.”

  “You suspect sabotage?”

  “Bimi. Please. I don't have time to get into politics. We will sort everything out, I assure you. We’re offering three hundred thousand Xa.”

  Bimi’s eyes opened wide. “Three hundred thousand? Arro, you misunderstand my questioning. I am just anxious to end these dangerous missions. I understand that my fellow Ciri are in danger, and am happy to go.” His eyes glanced angrily at the engineer, who was measuring the side of his house. “Even if your government is trying to destroy my house.”

  Arro looked sad. “Um, Bimi. It’s not quite that simple. We need your ship.”

  Bimi stared. “Oh.”

  “Yes.”

  “Three hundred thousand Xa will cut it very close. And that’s assuming I’m not hit in sniper-space.”

  “I'm sorry, Bimi. It was all I could get released.”

  “But you're terraforming a continent.”

  “Bimi, I promise, I'll do everything I can to have you reimbursed if you need more. But on such short notice, it was all I could get. Everyone seems to think that since... you know… you're human, they're human...”

  “I know. You're not in charge; I shouldn't blame you.”

  “Everything must be done proper, here. The tourism board, they raised that money for the Xa, fair and square. Not a penny came from the Ciri. If we had any more, I assure you, we would give it.”

  Bimi looked sadly at his house. “They will go around my house, though, right? Maybe leave me an island?”

  Arro shook his head. “We’ll see you at port tomorrow morning?”

  Bimi continued to stare at his house. “Of course, Arro. Of course.”

  Bimi wasn’t really unhappy to go to Earth. He loved Earth. He’d been there for many, many missions. He also knew how imperative it was that the Ciri be brought back safely… he'd made a great effort to minimize the amount of human recruiting the Xenonites did, for he felt that on the whole, planets which were doing no one any harm did not deserve to have good people whisked away at random, for the purposes of a civilization they had nothing to do with. His efforts had some success; thus he was one of only a handful of human Ciri in the Xenonite Forces. Fourteen exactly, he recalled. Most were unqualified to fly an x-craft half way across the galaxy. And none owned their own x-craft. Except him. Lucky him. Sure, they were offering him three hundred thousand Xa, but that barely covered fuel and supplies. If he ran into something and lost the ship, it would be another thousand years before he could afford another. They would say, 'Ah, Bimi, it was the risk you took, accepting the mission. No one forced you to go... it was your choice.' Right. Like he could say no and leave his fellow Ciri abandoned on Earth. Stuck for centuries on a planet where no one can relate to you, and the blessing of the Xenonite life extension pill is suddenly a curse. You'd probably get about a hundred and ten years before someone got suspicious and stuck a sword through you. The pill couldn't fix that. Unless of course there was another mission to Earth later, then they might be rescued. But no… that was unlikely. With the space-time ships gone and the sudden escalation of war in other systems, there would not be another mission to Earth for centuries. There were just too many more important planets to monitor. Even this last mission had barely passed the budget committee. Bimi had fought his best to prevent it, but the warning data from the Xenonites’ remote monitoring com-links was too important to ignore. We can still send information instantaneously across the galaxy, but not people. Bimi wished the scientists hadn’t disappeared with all of the space-time ships. Things were much simpler when distance wasn’t relevant. Except when the Vorians attacked. I guess there are some advantages when neither side can find the scientists. The Vorian attacks had been long before Bimi’s time, but he was familiar with the stories. Ever since those terrible times, the Xenonites’ mission had been to prevent any other species from figuring out space-time technology on their own and restarting the galactic war.

  He thought about his x-craft, safely stored in a hanger northwest of Nerobath Dir. He'd spent years, millennia, spying for the Xenonites, slaving away on their endless expeditions. He'd saved up every penny all those years, until just recently he'd finally been able to afford the ship. His pride and joy; the one large purchase he'd made after endless years in a tiny cottage on the edge of Xado, eating oysters for every meal and watching sunsets for entertainment (when he wasn’t off on a mission). It was used and past its prime, a hundred year old Class Ka x-craft, but it was his.

  He'd always felt that if he owned a ship, then finally, finally, he could live out his dream. He could fly to any planet he chose, and just, vacate. Is that how you said it? Relax. Sit around. Watch sunsets and look for oysters. He had a ridiculous amount of accrued vacation time after thousands of years as a Ciri. He had taken only one day of vacation… that was the day he took the bus to a sketchy realtor’s office in the north end of Xado City and closed on his cottage.

  So, here he was, preparing to leave for the Olusan Desert (where it was said the planet was so flat, you could see a thousand miles in all directions, but oh the clouds!), and now this. Bimi shook his head. At least it was Earth; it was always nice to visit Earth. He turned to the engineer, who was hammering a shiny tube into the ground next to the foundation. “Just stay away from my house, okay?” He stepped inside to pack for the trip.